Charade

I fall into the chair and realize this is going to take a while.

She comes back in the room and hands me a beer, which I take, then she sits on the couch next to Adrian. It’s the only empty spot. Perry and Dax are sitting on the other side of him. Perry’s girl Monique comes down the hall and sits on his lap. I see Dax and Perry both eyeing Chey then me like they’re trying to figure out what’s going on.

I don’t usually come home with girls. Deena’s around, but that’s just because she’s always partying with everyone.

I’m really not feeling this whole thing. The hang out with Cheyenne and my friends. It makes it feel like something we’re not, but I sit here and eat my food while she does the same and Adrian, suddenly awake, talks to her.

A knocks sounds from the door and I know things are about to get a whole lot worse.

I eye Adrian who doesn’t move so I get up. “Fucker.” I call him as I open the door. Jack and Oscar come in.

“What the fuck’s up!” Oscar yells. He’s always acting like an idiot and drives me insane.

“Beer sucks. I have Tequila.” He has a brown paper bag in his hand. I close the door and keep standing.

“Damn. Who are you?” Jack says, walking up to Cheyenne.

I take a step forward to tell to back off. To tell him she’s with me, and to keep the fuck away, but I don’t because she’s not my anything. We don’t have any promises and I don’t want any so I sit back to see how she’s going to handle it.

Adrian does it for her. “She’s Colt’s girl. Back off.”

His words piss me off. Yeah I was close to saying the same thing, but she’s not mine and I don’t want her to be. Not completely at least. But I also don’t want them trying to get with her so I don’t say anything.

“Wow. Colt’s girl, huh? I didn’t know that.” She looks at me and winks.

“Let’s play strip poker.” Oscar says.

Both Monique and Cheyenne shoot him down.

“Quarters?” Monique says. Neither her or Chey have said a word to each other. Girls are crazy like that, always sizing each other up and neither one wanting to talk until the other does it first.

I expect Cheyenne to say no, but she shrugs her shoulders as if she’s game. Which might not be a bad idea because I obviously need a drink to chill the hell out.

We move to the kitchen table, all of us crammed in around the thing. Monique is again on Perry’s lap, her hundreds of little braids hanging down over her shoulder.

Adrian pulls out his pipe and weed and everyone around the table but me and Cheyenne smoke and then the bottles in the middle and we all have our glasses filled.

I don’t know what makes me do it, but I lean over to her ear and nip it with my teeth. “If you get drunk, I can’t have my way with you.”

I watch as goosebumps blanket her bare shoulder. Damn it’s hot. I want to kiss them. Trace all of them with my tongue but there’s a table full of people here and I don’t do shit like that. Public displays are for couples and we’re not a couple. What Deena and I did we pretty much did in private. Yeah everyone knew and I didn’t care, but I also didn’t go around whispering shit in her ear.

I lean back in my chair to give us some space.

Cheyenne turns to me and smiles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be good.”

I want to tell her I don’t want her to be good. Instead I lean forward and add a little more tequila to my glass.

***

I am so fucked up. I don’t remember the last time I drank so much, but one game led to another. It was crazy watching Cheyenne with my friends. They’re so different but she was laughing her ass off the whole night and her and Adrian kept sharing these looks that if I wanted more than just to get her into bed, I’d be pissed about.

Everyone just left and I lean against the kitchen counter and crook my finger. “Come here,” I say.

Cheyenne steps between my legs and I’m dizzy as hell, but I still manage to kiss her. She tastes like tequila and my body is yelling, finally at me because this is what I’ve wanted all night, but then I have to grip the counter to keep myself standing up.

“You are so trashed. Didn’t you tell me not to get too drunk?” She smiling, but I don’t feel like smiling. I try to kiss her again, but she backs up. “You’re too messed up, Colt. I should go.”

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll be good.”

She pauses for a few seconds before she says, “I should go.”

But she doesn’t sound like she wants to go and I sure as hell don’t want her to go, so I hook my finger in the loop on her jeans and start toward my room. She’s laughing, but following me. I slam the door behind us, take off my shirt, kick off my shoes and step out of my jeans.

“I just need a few minutes.” The room is spinning. Why the hell did I drink this much? I climb into bed in my boxer-briefs and lean on my elbow and watch her. “Are you scared, Tiny Dancer?” I ask.

Like I knew she would she toes her shoes off. I watch as her jeans come next and she’s standing there in these bright purple panties against her caramel skin.

“I’d ask if you had something I could wear, but that feels too official, doesn’t it? Me wearing your clothes?” She smirks. At least I think she does.

“You won’t need clothes.”

She shrugs, turns out the light and slips into bed with me.

“Just a few minutes,” I tell her again. I close my eyes to keep the room still. Feel her against me. “You gotta do me a favor.” My lips are against her neck. I lick her skin there just because I need to taste her.

“What’s that?” She sounds sleepy. Or maybe it’s me. I don’t know.

What was the favor? “My mom.” I try to kiss her neck again, but don’t have the energy. My brain is telling me to shut the hell up, but my drunken self doesn’t listen. “I need you to go see her with me.”

Cheyenne’s quiet for a few second. I’m too messed up to worry about it.

“Sure…yeah. Okay. I can do that.”

And then nothing.

~CHAPTER TWENTY~

Cheyenne

My sleep is unbroken for only the second time since I found out about mom. It feels good to get a full night. Not to be chased and plagued by nightmares that make me feel weak. Of memories I can’t change, and questions I’ll probably never have answers to.

I can’t believe Colt asked me to go see his mom. I wonder if he meant it. If it will be one of those things people say when they’re too drunk to know better, and try to forget afterward. It’s what I’m assuming. I don’t know how I feel about it either way so in some aspects, it would be easier if he forgets.

It felt good to be asked though. I wonder why he did. I know it couldn’t have been something he wanted, which means somehow his mom knows about me. What did he tell her? That I’m the reason he was late the other day? Some messed up girl he’s messing around with?

But not really. I’m the girl he’s supposed to be having fun with, but we really haven’t done much.

Colt’s hand grips my waist and squeezes. Not too tight, but strong enough that I know he’s there. That he’s awake. My heart speeds up and I breathe harder.

“No more games. I want you,” he says into my ear. His breath is warm. His whole body is as he molds against my back. I feel his erection as he nudges against me.

“Roll over, Cheyenne.”

I do what he says and his mouth comes down on mine. It’s more urgent and needy than all our other kisses combined.

“I thought beer didn’t taste good the next day?” I ask when his mouth moves down to my neck.

“No time.” Colt licks my collarbone and then sucks my flesh into this mouth. I moan and arch toward him.

He’s putting up the barriers again. I know it, but I don’t care. We need them there so both of us remember exactly what this is about.

So both of us are able to forget.

Colt pushes my shirt up and I lift so he can get it over my head. I want it gone. Nothing between us because his hands feel so good on me. When he touches me I don’t think of anything else. Don’t feel anything else and all I need is that reprieve.

My bra comes next. I don’t have time to feel embarrassed because his hot, wet mouth covers my nipple and again all there is, is Colt.

I tighten a hand in his hair, fisting it, not sure if I’m trying to pull him closer because I need more or pushing him away because it’s too much.

He groans. From my pulling his hair or because I feel as good to him or he does to me, I don’t know and I don’t care. I let my other hand slide down the smooth plane of his back, under his boxer-briefs and cup him.

“Fuck,” He rasps and moves against my center. He curses too much and I want to tell him, but I don’t think I can form words right now. He’s so hard, nudged between my legs and rubbing me just right.

And then he’s gone and I miss the weight on top of me. Colt’s looking down at me with those blue, blue eyes, his hair even more tousled then I’ve ever seen it.

“Are you sure?” he confirms. I almost smile because he asked. He’s so hard and rough, but he has this caring side I don’t know if he realizes is there.

I’m not sure it’s a good thing that it’s there, so I say, “I’m smart enough to know what I want.”

Without a word he climbs off the bed. I watch the sinewy muscles of his back move as he walks to his dresser, opens the top drawer and pulls out a condom.

Nerves suddenly sneak their way in. I’ve only ever been with Gregory. I only planned to be with him because we worked and he gave me what I needed, but now, even though I know more than anything I want Colt, it scares me.

Maybe the fact that I want him so much is what freaks me out.

I reach for the blanket, but he tsks at me. “Don’t do that. You’re not shy, Tiny Dancer.” And that easily, he pushes his boxer-briefs down. No shame, not that he has anything to be shameful about, but he bares himself physically so easily. Maybe it’s because the rest of him is so shut away.

Colt climbs over me on the bed. I don’t know what emotion to focus on: passion or nerves, but then he’s pulling my panties down my legs.

And he’s rolling the condom on.

When his lips kiss my lower stomach, passion wins out. Then his mouth finds mine.

He’s pushing in and I’m crying out, my nails in his back, my mind shut off.

Yes, my mind is shut off, but my body is definitely on.

Colt starts to move and I move with him. It hurts slightly, but his lips on my mouth and his hand on my breast helps to dull the pain. Both physical ache and the one weighing heavily on my chest that’s been there since I found out about Mom.

Maybe longer.

***

Neither of us says a word as Colt gets up to get rid of the condom.

Not a word when he climbs back into bed.

Not a word while we lie there…and lie there.

The nerves are back, topped off with awkwardness. If this was Gregory, he would have passed out holding me. Colt’s eyes are open and so are mine, his right arm and my left arm the only part of us touching.

“I should probably get going. I have some stuff to take care of.” Despite my words. I don’t move.

“Okay. Yeah, whenever you want, I can bring you back.”

I get up and start to get dressed. I hate putting the same thing on two days in a row and can’t wait to get back to the dorm to change. But still, I will him to say something. Anything. I don’t need him to ask me to stay, but some kind of anything would help calm the storm in my stomach.

Colt sits on the edge of the bed, grabs my shirt and hands it to me. I pull it on, telling him I have to go to the restroom and leave before he can get up.

I splash water on my face, hoping it can wash away the past few weeks of my life. When I look in the mirror, it’s all still there. I’m still there.